Chapters
by Adamantwrites
Summary: Adam thinks back on certain "chapters" of his life-and reviews his past when a tragic time comes into his life.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. All original characters and plots are the property of the author. No copyright infringement is intended.

**Chapters**

_The Fortune Teller_

"Well, what do you think of New Orleans?" Adam asked his bride. He patted Zoe's small, gloved hand as she held onto his arm.

"It's like another world," she said as they walked through the streets of the Vieux Carré. The gas streetlamps had just been lit and the evening sky was clear, the stars just beginning to glisten overhead. The moon was cut in half and Zoe had made a joke that their honeymoon was half over already. "Oh, Adam, I love New Orleans. This city is unlike anywhere else in the world with fantastical plants and enchanted buildings. Thank you, my darling, for bringing me here." Zoe leaned her head on Adam's arm and he almost groaned from the pain of his intense love for her.

Adam had never been happier in his life; never. No longer did he ache from a loneliness that often forced him to go numb to avoid feeling it. He had his wife now, his life—Zoe. Her name in Greek meant life and she had given him a new existence in a world filled with laughter and joy and a sublime contentment that up till now had been a mere ignis fatuus, a foolish hope, a delusion. When he would wake suddenly in the middle of the night in their hotel and she would be so still that he feared she was dead, Adam was afraid that he had lost after all-that his small joy would be ripped away. But he would watch her, barely breathing himself until he saw her breast almost imperceptibly rise and then his own breathing would settle down and his panic recede. He told himself he was foolish—he was being irrational and emotional-but he couldn't help himself. The gods were often so perverse as Hop Sing had once said.

"Look, Adam, a fortune teller." Zoe stopped and a dark-skinned woman, a Creole, was sitting at a table under a canopy, and she was calling out her service. She said that she could read palms and tell a person their future. She saw the young couple, so handsome together and the old Creole woman smiled.

"Come and sit and let me tell your future, a happy future I'm sure. Ah, what do I see? A beauty for a beauty—two joined as one. A life anew for you, sir, correct?"

"Yes," Zoe said with an eager smile. "for both of us. We're on our honeymoon. Can you tell just by looking at my palm if we'll be happy?" Zoe started to pull off her glove to put out her hand but Adam roughly snatched her away.

"That's enough, Zoe," Adam said. Then he turned on the woman. "No, we're not interested. I don't believe in such things." Zoe watched him; Adam was behaving strangely, stiffly, almost as if he was afraid of the woman and he had a cruel grip on her wrist.

"Don't you want to know?" the woman asked. "I know what is before you because your future is written in the palms of your hands—what is and what will be. From your birth your whole life has been plotted by the lines and cross lines on your palm and I, only I can decipher them. For a mere donation, whatever you want to give, I will tell you, whether you will live long or not, be prosperous or not, find love or not, be kind or be cruel—I can tell you." She was hypnotic with her sing-song voice and Adam felt the temptation to have her read his palm. But then he felt Zoe move beside him and she asked if she could please have her palm read. But Adam was too afraid to know the future, didn't want to know.

"No, Zoe. It's foolish," Adam said sternly. Zoe looked crushed. Adam reached in his jacket pocket and pulled out some coins which he threw on the woman's table. She looked up at him.

"I don't take money without giving something in return—that is bad luck. But without even looking at your palm but only at your face, I can see a great happiness for you, a joyous state greater than the divine ecstasy of the saints. But yours will not last. Take it while you can—swallow it whole, revel in it-time kills all things and all beautiful things have their season and then are gone."

Adam paused for a moment; his heart racing the same way it did when he awoke in the middle of the dark nights. Then he released Zoe's wrist and slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her away. He walked rapidly and she stepped quickly to keep up or he would drag her along.

"What is it, Adam? Are you angry with me?" Zoe was near to tears; Adam had never shown any displeasure with her before but then she always tried to please him.

Adam was afraid to speak; he would give himself away if he did so he just shook his head. They continued down the streets until they arrived at the opera house. He bought their tickets and his mind was racing. He should have hired the hack but Zoe wanted to walk to the theater; it was such a beautiful evening, she said and so Adam indulged her. But had they ridden in the hackney cab, they never would have come across the fortune teller and he wouldn't have had to face his biggest fear.

They sat in the dark theater and watched the singers on the stage. Zoe looked at the libretto Adam had bought in the lobby but she didn't speak or ask him any questions about the story as she usually did. His posture was stiff and he stared fixedly at the stage. But he wasn't paying attention; his mind was racing. He didn't believe in fortune tellers and such, they were foolish and superstitious. And yet, he also knew that he did believe—a small part of his atavistic brain, the part that reached into the past of all mankind and believed in shamen and omens and runes and I Ching and the throwing of bones, the magic of witches and all the many ways that men had sought to be guided and to know the future were alive and well in his pagan soul. And Hop Sing had his household gods to which he lit incense and gave offerings so that they would protect him and the Cartwrights and give the family prosperity. And Adam had scoffed at Hop Sing through the years but somehow, knowing that Hop Sing was praying for him and his family was a comfort and that his ancient gods were protecting them.

After the opera and the cab ride home, when Adam and Zoe were back in their hotel and lying in the dark, entangled in each other's arms despite the heat and humidity of the New Orleans night, Adam brought Zoe's palm to his lips and gently kissed it.

"Adam," she said quietly, "why were you so afraid?"

He knew what she was asking. "I don't want to know the future, Zoe."

Zoe raised her head to look down on him and Adam looked up at the face he had come to treasure. Surely, he thought, angels in heaven weren't as lovely as his wife. "I don't believe in such things, Adam. I just thought it would be fun."

"I think people make things come true—both bad and good. If she had told you anything bad, you might have made it come about because she planted the seed."

"Oh, Adam, I'm not a child." Zoe smiled at him; he looked so worried that she wanted to soothe his fears. "No one can tell our future except for me and I say…" Zoe picked up his hand and looked at his palm in the streetlight's glow. "I say that you have a beautiful, loving wife and that you and she will be happy for many, many years to come and will grow old together and have a slew of children." The she kissed his palm.

Adam smiled up at her. "Better?" she asked him.

"Zoe, I don't believe in fortune telling but what I do mean is that you're open to things. Now I don't want to discuss it anymore. Don't bring it up again…please. Let's go to sleep." Adam pulled her closer and Zoe laid her head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat; it pounded faster and harder than usual.

"Don't be afraid for me, Adam, and don't be afraid of the future. After all, you have me to go through it with you. And I'll hold your hand the whole way. What's that poem you read to me by Browning? The one about growing old together."

"_Rabbi Ben Ezra_. 'Grow old along with me; the best is yet to be'."

"Yes, Adam. That's us. The best is ahead for us." Zoe sighed deeply and nestled even closer to her husband.

Adam stared into the abyss of the future and his eyes felt hot. He remembered another line from the poem: "Be our joys three-parts pain." And Zoe slept, the soft sip of her breath comforting him. Adam was glad she was oblivious of his amorphous fear that even he couldn't name but it had been with him since he was a child like a black shadow that walked closely behind him, breathing on his neck and always threatening to overtake him.

TBC


	2. Chinese New Year

_Chinese New Year_

"This seems like a good spot," Adam said as he unfolded the blanket on a rise above Virginia City. "We can see the big fireworks show from here." The sounds from Chinatown rose up to the heavens and Adam and Zoe could still hear the beating of the drums and the yelling of the children as they chased the dragon and then turned, shrieking in fear when the dragon turned their way and rolled his huge head from side to side threateningly. The adults would laugh at the antics remembering when they themselves were afraid of the dragon even though he was an omen of good luck.

Zoe put out her hand and touched him. "Thank you, Adam, for…well, I know it's a silly fear but ever since I was a child, I've been afraid of fireworks; the noise and then when the fire falls from the sky—I was always afraid it would set everything aflame. My father used to try to explain that it would never happen but I would close my eyes and plug my ears with my fingers, terrified the whole time."

Adam chuckled. "I suppose we're all afraid of silly things."

"What are you afraid of Adam that's silly?" Zoe and Adam had settled on the blanket. Adam's guitar was in the buggy; he took it whenever he went sparking Zoe because she liked to hear him sing. She called him her personal troubadour.

"Wasps. I'm afraid of wasps."

"Well, that's not silly. That's a rational fear—horrid insects. It's said that God created bees and when the devil tried, he ended up with the wasp instead. But I mean something like the dark. Are you afraid of the dark?"

Adam sat for a moment and then sighed—he would tell her. "Closed spaces; I don't like closed, dark spaces. I feel trapped and as if there's no air."

Zoe noticed his breathing step up. "I understand, Adam. I do. There's nothing worse than being trapped, nothing. My father had a hired a man once to dig a well for us. He ended up being buried under the earth—the ground had collapsed around him and he was smothered under it all. My father and the neighbor and some hands tried to dig him out but the harder they tried, the more earth fell. So they gave up. I couldn't believe it, that they were going to let him just lie under all that dirt. I made a cross out of twine and sticks and stuck it on top but I never went near that spot again. I used to think that he haunted us for letting him lie in the ground that way. I blamed every noise on him, ever odd thing that happened." Zoe looked up at Adam, feeling foolish. "But I was young and impressionable. I'm so much more mature now and am only afraid of being set aflame by fireworks!" Zoe laughed and Adam joined her.

"Well, I'm glad you have that fear because now we had to leave the celebrations. This spot is much better and I get to be alone with you and not in the crowd watching the parade. And when the big fireworks go off, we'll be able to see them. And, best of all, I didn't have to maneuver to get you alone."

"Did you want to get me alone?" Zoe tilted her head slightly.

"Oh yes, very much."

"Why?" she asked. Adam looked at Zoe, one brow raised in surprise and then she blushed; he didn't have to tell her why—she knew.

"Now, if I wanted you to think I was clever," Adam said, "I could say that when I asked you to come with me for the parade and fireworks, that I knew that you would want to watch them from a distance and that I saw this as my chance to be alone with you and not sitting on your front porch with your father peeking at us through the curtain to see if I was behaving."

Zoe laughed and Adam grinned. "Don't blame him too much, Adam. My father thinks that you're too experienced for me; he's told me to be wary of you and your intentions. He's afraid you'll break my heart."

"And what do you think, Zoe?"

"I know you're more experienced than I. Why, you went east to school and traveled to Europe and all over this country. You've seen wonderful things and I'm sure you've met beautiful women and drunk champagne with them—maybe even out of their slippers." Adam laughed. "And then there's me. I've never been out of Nevada except for a trip to visit a dying aunt in St. Louis years ago; you forget, Adam, I've lived in Virginia City for a long time, practically my whole life, and I've heard all about the Cartwright sons and of you in particular, Adam. You have the reputation for being a ladies' man. But I don't care. I like being with you, especially up here on the top of the rise with all the other people below us. Besides, I have no interest in any other man but you." She smiled at him and Adam's heart filled with joy. But Zoe dropped her eyes and added, "But Adam, I do hope that you won't break my heart. I know I could protect myself by never giving it to you-but I already have."

Adam watched Zoe's elegant profile as she looked out at the view. He had seen her so many times before until that one day when he saw her in church sitting quietly by her father. Zoe had turned her face toward him and it seemed to Adam as if a corona surrounded her and Adam knew then that he wanted her. Zoe wasn't beautiful in the sense that she "fried your eyeballs" as Joe would put it, but beautiful in a quiet, serene way. She gave Adam a sense of peace, a place to rest. Zoe was at least eight years younger than he but Adam didn't care about her naiveté; it only made him want her more. And Adam made up his mind on that Sunday in church that he was going to marry Zoe even if it took years to win her.

Adam reached for Zoe's hand and she looked over at him and smiled gently. She reached out and clasped his hand and scooted closer to him. He put his arm out and around her shoulders and Zoe leaned her head against him. Adam sighed. This felt right. _So this is what love feels like, he thought to himself. It's a fitting together, a completion of the self—I know now. _Adam kissed Zoe's hair.

"Hop Sing said that this is the year of the Dragon. It's the most favorable year for babies to be born or for people to start a new phase in life."

"Are you starting a new phase, Adam?" Zoe asked softly.

"I want to. How about you, Zoe? Would you accompany me so I won't be alone?"

Zoe sat back to face Adam as the firework display started and the explosions of colors and lights began to fill the night sky. "Is Chinese New Year like our New Year in that if you don't kiss someone, you'll be alone all year?"

"Now that I don't know," Adam said. "But I don't think it's worth taking a chance, do you?"

"Well, my pa says that gambling is wrong—the devil's pastime and taking a chance would be gambling."

"Now what are we going to do about it?" Adam looked serious.

"Well, maybe we should kiss—at midnight, of course."

"Well, here's the problem. I don't think I brought my pocket watch," Adam said with mock seriousness. "So what shall we do to ensure a happy year?"

"Well," Zoe said, her brow furrowed as she thought, "I think that we should kiss for a while in order to account for the margin of error."

"What a very clever girl you are." Adam pulled off his hat and threw it aside. He reached out for Zoe who fell willingly into his arms. Adam pulled her down on the blanket with him and held her while he kissed her softly at first but then with more passionate feelings, his mouth crushing hers, his lips traveling down her slender neck. Zoe matched his ardor with her own passion, clinging to him. And the fireworks broke and exploded over them as the two lovers embraced one another high above the happenings of those below, above the people enjoying the festivities and who had no idea that a man and a woman had silently declared their love to one another under the moon and the stars and the explosions that were set off in the darkness.

TBC


	3. A Summer Rain

_A Summer Rain_

It had been a long, hot day working on the Ponderosa and Adam's shirt was stuck to his back. His feet in his boots felt as if they were as hot as a match head and he could hardly wait to get home and pull the boots off and stand in the horse trough. It had been a string of hot days, one after another and the heat had drained him.

He and his brothers had gone their different ways about a mile back; Hoss and Joe to the Ponderosa ranch house and Adam to the small house he had built for him and Zoe and Micah. Adam smiled to himself, forgetting his physical misery for a moment as he thought of the plans he had drawn up on expanding the house. Adam had shown them to Zoe last night and she had approved; Adam had originally designed the house with an eye for expansion. He had explained to Zoe about going up and out to the side; he couldn't extend the house to the rear because he had built the house with the larger covered porch in the back; there were two sets of French doors leading out to the porch that ran the length of the house. The view from the porch was a magnificent vista; there was a drop that kept the view from being blocked by the trees. From the porch, one could see Lake Tahoe and the mountain ranges surrounding it and in the evenings, the stars shone brightly in the heavens.

Almost every night when the weather was obliging, he and Zoe would sit in the wooden rocking chairs and talk before heading to bed and once Micah was born, it was usually Adam who held the robust child and rocked him to sleep after Zoe had fed him. And Adam would look down at his sleeping son who had his coloring and a nimbus of wispy dark curls and his heart would swell with love. Zoe said that Micah had his father's sweet mouth, like a cupid's mouth, and Adam laughed and said no, he had his mother's mouth.

"No, Adam, he's you. That must be how you looked as a baby," Zoe had once said and although Adam denied that he could ever have been so beautiful, Zoe told him that she found him the most beautiful man she had ever seen.

There were six rocking chairs, one for each Cartwright because when Adam's father and brothers visited or came to dinner, they could all sit on the long back porch and drink their coffee and the peace of nature would surround them. And that was how Adam viewed his home, as a sanctuary of calm and peace, mainly because Zoe was there. And now there was Micah as well.

A slight breeze stirred and Adam welcomed it. He looked up and although the sun was still shining brightly in the west, small drops of a summer rain began to fall. The gentle drops were as warm as a bath but they began to step up and Adam removed his hat to let the rain wash over his face. Zoe called rain like this a sun shower.

Adam rode up to his house and he smiled at what he saw. He dismounted and let his horse walk loose and it trotted into the stable; they were both home now.

Adam stood in the yard, his arms crossed high on his chest, and grinned. Zoe was holding eight month old Micah and dancing around the yard. The laughing child had his tiny hands out, enjoying the rain after the hot day, and he'd blink whenever any of the drops fell near his eyes as he looked heavenward. Zoe was laughing at the child's obvious delight.

"Come join us, Adam." Zoe called. And when the child saw his father, he reached out his arms and Zoe had to shift her grip on him so that she wouldn't drop him.

Adam hurried over and took the boy in his arms, kissing the head of his child, his son. "What are you two doing out here in the rain?" he asked, smiling still at the happy picture of his wife and child.

"Oh, it's such a warm rain. I just wanted Micah to be in it, to experience it." Zoe turned her gaze up to the sky and the drops of rain fell onto her face and rolled down her neck. Her dress stuck to her and Adam was filled with desire and love.

Adam held his son and asked him if he liked the rain and the child giggled and patted Adam's face. Adam turned round and round, spinning the two of them, and Micah laughed delightedly and Zoe couldn't help but smile at her husband who laughed as well at the delight of his child.

"Look, Adam. Look, Micah," Zoe said pointing, "a rainbow."

Adam looked where Zoe was pointing and there was an arch of colors, a rainbow stretching across the sky. "Look, Micah." Adam pointed, holding the boy firmly with one arm. "See the colors? See the rainbow? Look." Adam held the child's arm and pointed it in the direction of the rainbow and the child laughed delightedly but only looked at his father; he had no interest in anything but this large man who was so good and kind to him and who always smiled and lifted him up and held him above the world.

Adam put out his arm to his wife and Zoe was enveloped in his arms as well and Adam kissed his wife and then they both kissed their child who was in the middle of their embrace.

"I love you, Mrs. Cartwright. You've granted my wish for all the treasures of the world. You're both my rainbow and the gold at the end."

"Oh, Adam," Zoe said and gave him another quick kiss. "I have dinner all ready and waiting for you but first, we all need to go in and change into dry clothes and you need to take care of your horse. I have to be the practical one. You can be the romantic." And Zoe left Adam and Micah in the front yard.

"Do you like the rain, Micah?" The child smiled at him and touched Adam's mouth, watching him speak. "Can you say rain?"

"Papa," the child said. "Papa."

Adam laughed. "Yes, I'm Papa. Where's momma? Hmm? Where did momma go?" The child leaned backward in his father's arms and pointed to the house. "Momma house."

"That's right. Momma went into the house. And who do we love more than anyone else in the whole world?"

"Momma." Micah looked at his father.

Adam took one of the child's small hands and kissed it tenderly. "Yes, we love Momma. And I love both of you." And Adam held the child closely until Micah began to struggle to be free. Adam kissed him on one of his plump cheeks. "Let's go get into some dry clothes, boy. You momma will have a fit if dinner is ruined." Adam bounced the child slightly in his arms and Micah laughed in delight. "Smells like pot roast. Well, pot roast for me. Just the breast for you, boy, but one day, you'll have a good steak—but not until you get more teeth." And Adam walked with his son into the house calling to his wife that they were coming in now.

TBC


	4. Sweetness

_Sweetness_

16 year old Adam was sitting on the bench outside the mercantile while he waited for his father, trying to study for his entrance exams but he was finding it hard to concentrate. A pig-tailed girl, about seven or eight was skipping up and down the sidewalk and quietly singing a little song of her own composition to herself. He was tempted to tell her to sit down and be quiet. Her mother had left her outside the store with explicit instructions.

"Now, Zoe, wait out here for me and don't leave the front of the store. Understand?"

Adam had looked up to see who spoke.

"Can I have some candy?" the little girl asked her mother.

"It's 'may I have some candy' but no, you don't need any—it would just spoil your dinner. Just wait out here and don't cause me worry."

Adam went back to the history book; he used all his spare time now to study for his entrance exam in two months. He felt, more than saw, the girl standing next to him and he looked up into her open sweet face.

"What are you reading, Mister?" she asked.

"A history book."

"A school book?"

"Of sorts." Adam hoped that if he ignored her, she'd leave him alone so he went back to his book.

"I'm in grade 3. What grade are you in?" Zoe stepped lightly from side to side, landing on alternate feet and giving a little hop when she did.

Adam sighed. "I'm out of grammar school but I'm going to another school far away and I have to learn more things for that school. Now, I don't mean to be rude but I need to study. Okay?"

The girl nodded but she continued to stand by him. "My name's Zoe Bartlett. What's yours?"

Adam sighed. He decided to indulge the girl but intentionally made his voice have an edge of irritation. "Adam Cartwright."

"There's a boy in school and his name is Hoss Cartwright—well, it's really Erick and the teacher, she calls him Erick but everyone else calls him Hoss and I call him Hoss too. He's in grade 4. Do you know him?"

"He's my brother."

"He doesn't look like you. Are you telling me the truth?" Zoe furrowed her brow, her small head cocked to one side.

"Yes, I'm telling you the truth. Now look Zoe Bartlett, it was really nice to meet you but I'm busy reading, okay?" Adam looked at the child who still stood and looked at him; she had the oddest look in her eyes—as if she could see into his soul and it made him a little uncomfortable.

"Hoss is nice. I help him so he doesn't have to stay in at recess and do his numbers again."

Adam looked at her, a small grin on his face. So this little Zoe was responsible for Hoss' better math grades. Hoss had told his father at dinner one night that a friend at school had been helping him but he had neglected to say that it was a girl and such a pretty one at that. Adam considered how the next time Hoss bothered him, he could use this bit of ammunition against him.

"Well, Zoe, that's really nice of you. Now I can't talk to you anymore because I need to study the things in this book for my new school."

Zoe stood a few more moments and then she put out her arms and spun around on the wooden sidewalk. She almost spun into a man who was walking by and he said, "Watch it, girl. Stop playing on the sidewalk." And then the man gave her a slight push and went on his way. Adam had the urge to grab the man by his shirt front and tell him not to be so rough with the little girl but he didn't. He went back to the history of the Protestant Reformation but he couldn't concentrate.

Zoe began to skip up and down the sidewalk, singing a little song that she was making up as she went along. It had no definite tune and was about the store and candy and school and Adam swore he heard his name mentioned in a verse. He watched her as she skipped and sang and her face was so pure and innocent that he smiled; she would be a little beauty when she grew up—he could see that even at her young age. It was odd, he thought, that sometimes he could look at a person and see what they must have looked like as a child but her, he could almost visualize what a lovely woman she would be, how the roundness would leave her cheeks and her glossy hair would be piled on her head and not worn in braids tied with ribbons.

She skipped by him again and Adam noticed that a ribbon slid off her braid and fell on the boards. He leaned over and picked it up.

"Zoe, your ribbon."

The child stopped and then held out both her braids so that she could see them, confirming to herself that it indeed was one of hers. She smiled at Adam and hurried over.

"Thank you," she said. "My mom would have been mad if I lost one of my ribbons." She took it from him. "Can you tie it on for me?"

Adam shifted uncomfortably. "Well, I guess so. Now I've never tied a ribbon in a girl's hair before so have patience with me. Now stand still for a minute."

Zoe handed Adam the ribbon and stood in front of him as still she could while Adam tied the ribbon, undid it—not pleased with the result—and tied it again. And even though it still looked a little mismatched with the other ribbon, it would do.

"All done."

Zoe smiled at him and thanked him, feeling the ribbons on both braids. Then she sat on the bench beside him, swinging her legs in and out to the side and clicking her boots together. Adam sighed again and closed his book.

"Are you through with your book?" Zoe asked.

"For the time being, yes." Adam turned at the sound of the door opening and his father walked out of the mercantile, scanning a list in his hand.

"Adam, the order will be ready in a half hour. Let's go to the feed store. And here's a bag of sweetnin' for Hoss and Joe." Ben tossed it to Adam.

Adam stood up and turned to Zoe. "Oh, Pa, allow me to introduce you to a friend of Hoss'. Zoe Bartlett, this is our father, Mr. Cartwright."

"How do you do," Zoe politely said, standing up and giving a little curtsy.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Zoe. I know your father very well but I didn't know he had such a pretty little girl."

Zoe blushed and looked down coyly.

"Zoe is Hoss' friend who's helping him with his numbers so he won't have to miss recess to do his math problems again and if I know their teacher, again and again, until he does them correctly."

"Oh, is that so?" Ben said bending down to be on eye-level with the girl. "Well, Hoss is very lucky to have a friend like you." Ben stood up again and gave Adam his attention. "You take the buckboard around to the back of the feed store, Adam, and I'll meet you there." Ben tipped his hat to Zoe and strode off.

Adam went to climb onto the seat of the buckboard and Zoe stood still on the sidewalk watching him, her hands behind her back. He paused; her innocent youthful beauty made him want to cry and he was shocked at his emotional reaction to her. One day, she would probably suffer heartbreak and pain and miseries that a being as ethereal as she should never have to endure and Adam felt a need to protect her.

"Zoe, go ask your mom if it's okay if I give you some of Hoss' candy."

Zoe grinned and ran into the store. Adam could see her through the window and see her mother's scowl. Zoe pointed and Mrs. Bartlett looked out the window at Adam. He tipped his hat to her. Then Mrs. Bartlett seemed to sigh in resignation and nodded and said something to her daughter. Zoe came running out.

"She said yes, but only two pieces," Zoe said practically dancing on the sidewalk.

"Well, here." Adam bent down and held the open bag in front of her. "Pick any two you want."

Zoe stared into the bag and then, with her delicate fingers, she picked out a peppermint and a caramel.

"Thank you, Adam," Zoe said.

"You're welcome," he answered smiling. "Thank you for helping Hoss."And as he watched, Zoe put the peppermint in her mouth and continued skipping up and down the sidewalk. Adam chuckled to himself. One day a man would give Zoe, the woman, flowers and jewelry, anything to win her affections and he could understand why. Zoe Bartlett was going to be one beauty when she grew up. Some man would be very lucky.

TBC


	5. The Birthing

_The Birthing_

Adam paced while his father sat on the couch, drinking coffee. Adam's cup sat untouched.

Last night Adam had awoken and Zoe wasn't in bed. Adam looked around the room but she wasn't there. The room was still and the door to the hall shut. He climbed out of bed and pulled on his robe. He tied the sash as he took to the stairs and when he arrived at the bottom, he stopped and listened but all was silent. The room was dark. "Zoe? Zoe?" He considered that she might be in the kitchen but even though he saw no light, he looked in. She wasn't there and now he began to panic. "Zoe?" He called, fear crawling up his spine. Then he caught motion from the side of his eye and looked through the French doors to the porch. Zoe, in her gown and robe, was rocking in one of the chairs and looking out in the distance.

Adam opened one set of doors to the porch but Zoe didn't turn; she continued to rock and he heard her heavy breathing. He knew then that she was in labor because he had seen enough mares drop foals and cows birth calves; there was always the labored breathing and the fear in the eyes and the focus—the intense turning inward.

Adam dropped to his knees beside her chair. "Zoe, come in the house. It's chilly out here. You'll catch cold."

"It's almost time, Adam. It hurts more than I thought it would." Zoe stopped and her face contorted with pain and she held her abdomen with both hands. Then she began to breath heavily again.

"Zoe, come to bed. I'll go for Mrs. Shaughnessy. Please just come to bed." Zoe nodded and Adam helped her out of the chair and up the stairs. At the top, she doubled over again and stopped breathing until the pain passed. Then she began to pant.

Zoe turned her large eyes to Adam and he saw how very frightened she was. "Would you hurry, Adam?"

"Yes, as soon as you get into bed." He managed to get her into the bed and tucked the covers around her; he didn't know what else to do that was comforting. The sweat beaded on her forehead. "Zoe, stay here in bed. Please." Adam quickly dressed and kept glancing at Zoe but she seemed unaware of him or anything else. He told her that he was leaving but she didn't acknowledge she even heard him.

At a gallop, Adam rode to the Shaughnessy's. Mr. Shaughnessy had died years earlier but Mrs. Shaughnessy was quite a woman, having raised five children to adulthood after her husband passed. And now her three sons helped on the property and her daughters visited often. Shaughnessy was the midwife, nurse to the doctor when he needed one out that way, child-rearing consultant and all-around help when needed. Her only opposition was Hop Sing; he knew what was best for his family, he told her once when she came to help nurse Joe through bronchitis.

Adam pounded on the Shaughnessy's door non-stop until one of her sons answered.

As soon as he saw it was Adam and the look on his face, he said, "Is it her time?"

"Yes. It's bad. Can your mother…" but that was all Adam had to say for Mrs. Shaughnessy came to the door.

"You get home, Adam. Boil a big pot of water and gather towels—lots of them. Then sit with her until I get there. Mose will drive me over. Ty, go wake Mose and tell him to hurry and hitch up the buggy. Then go tell Mr. Cartwright his first grandchild is on the way, understand?"

"Yeah, Ma." Ty took off and Adam stared helplessly. "Now go do what I said, Adam. And you might as well make a big pot of coffee too. Now go. I have to dress and get my things."

Now Adam had direction; he had something to do so he rode home as quickly as he dared in the dark and threw open his front door and ran up the stairs calling, "Zoe? Zoe?" He rushed into their bedroom and Zoe was walking back and forth across the room.

"Zoe, get into bed. Please, Zoe." He held onto her arms and tried to guide her.

"I can't Adam, I can't. It hurts too much and I'll scream if I have to lie there. It feels like I can't breathe, like I'll die. Please." Her eyes were wide with fear and she was shaking. "I have to walk. I have to keep moving."

"All right." Adam stroked her face; he had seen fear before like this and he was seeing it again. "I have to put on water and coffee. Shaughnessy is coming. She'll be here soon. As soon as I'm finished, I'll come up and we'll walk together."

Adam hurriedly did what Shaughnessy had told him. He then gathered all the towels and blankets he could and took them upstairs. Zoe was leaning on the dresser, one hand propping her up, the other clutching her belly. Adam slipped his arm around her and supporting her, he walked with her up and down the room, pacing together. He tried to talk to her, thinking maybe simple conversation would soothe her but she asked him to please be quiet—not to talk. So he remained silent as she endured the pain.

"I'm here!" Adam heard Mrs. Shaughnessy's voice from downstairs and was relieved. He was afraid that he would have to deliver his own child and was afraid that he wouldn't be able to help Zoe, that he would hurt her and the child or worse, kill them with his clumsy attempts at helping. Animals had instincts but humans? If he was supposed to instinctually know what to do as his primal ancestors did, then he was far more advanced than anyone else, he sarcastically considered.

Mrs. Shaughnessy seemed to have a soothing effect on Zoe and together, she and Adam convinced Zoe to lie in bed. Then Mrs. Shaughnessy asked Adam to leave.

"But isn't there anything I can do? I need to do something—I can't just stand here helpless."

"If I need anything, I'll call for you," she said and shooed Adam out. Then he heard his father's deep voice calling to him.

"Adam? Adam, I'm here."

Adam wanted to stay outside his wife's door. "I'm up here, Pa."

Ben saw Adam, pale and frightened standing in the hall. Ben put his arm around Adam's shoulders. "C'mon, son. No one knows how long it will be; babies come when they're ready. When I came in I smelled coffee. If you've made some, why don't we go have some?" So with a backward glance to the closed door, Adam went down the stairs to the parlor and tried to sit and drink coffee with his father, but like his wife, he couldn't sit still.

After two hours, Shaughnessy came halfway down the stairs. She looked haggard. "Adam, we don't have enough time to get the doctor so I need you to help me deliver this child."

Adam looked up at her. Then he started up the stairs and Ben followed. But Adam practically gasped when he saw Zoe. Her hair was soaked with sweat and her gown was wet and stuck to her. She clutched the sheets in her fists and twisted them as she made low, keening, guttural sounds. Her heels were digging in the mattress with her knees partially drawn back—she had obviously been pushing hard and was exhausted.

"What do I do?" Adam asked Mrs. Shaughnessy.

"Okay, Adam. Listen to me. We need to get that child out now. I've been listening to its heart beat and it's not good. I need you to push down on her belly, to physically move the child out, understand?"

"Not really, but I'll try." He started to place his hands on Zoe's abdomen but stopped. "What if I make it worse?"

Shaughnessy stared at him. "It can't get worse." So Adam knew. He nodded and placed his hands on both sides of Zoe's belly and began to push. He was amazed that he could actually feel the child's body, the rounded buttocks, and began to push the child down and hopefully out but the angle was awkward.

"Wait, Shaughnessy," Adam said. "Let me get behind her."

"Adam," Zoe said between her groans of pain and gasping for breath, "what are you doing?"

"Trust me," he said. "Please trust me." Adam crawled on the bed, positioning Zoe so that her back was against his chest as he sat against the headboard.

Shaughnessy's eyes opened in recognition of what Adam had in mind. "Now I should have thought of that. Let me know, Adam, when you're ready." And Shaughnessy positioned herself at Zoe's raised knees.

"Reach back and put your hands around my neck; hold on to me," Adam instructed his wife. Zoe reached up and back and Adam placed his hands, palms flat against her abdomen. "Now," he said to Shaughnessy.

Shaughnessy urged a weary, defeated Zoe to push and Adam did as well. He whispered to her, "I'm here, Zoe. I'm pushing too. C'mon, girl, screw up all that stubbornness you own and use it to push out this child. I'll help you. Now let's push together... "

And Zoe gritted her teeth and with a heavy push and with the help of the pressure of Adam's hand, there was a sound of fluid bursting forth and Shaughnessy delivered a boy, a blue-skinned, still and silent boy. Adam stared, barely breathing himself.

"My baby," Zoe said, letting go of Adam and reaching out for the child. "My baby, I want my baby."

"Wait, Zoe, wait," Adam said, reaching out and taking her hands in his. He made soothing noises to comfort her.

Mrs. Shaughnessy held the child by his feet and gave the soles a sharp smack. Fluid ran out of the child's mouth and Shaughnessy gave the soles of the tiny feet another smack and the child cried and shook. Shaughnessy wrapped the infant in a towel, cut and tied off the cord and rubbed it vigorously. The child howled and slowly the blue tinge left its lips and skin and the more it howled, the rosier it became.

Adam laughed in relief. "Oh, Zoe, he has quite a set of lungs on him." Zoe reached back and held Adam's neck with one hand.

"Yes, he does." She took her hand away and reached out with both her arms. "My son. Please, I want my son."

Shaughnessy took the infant from the towel and wrapped it in a small blanket that had been a gift and handed the still-whimpering infant to Zoe. Adam still sat behind Zoe and with the child in Zoe's arms, he held his world.

"Look, Adam," she said, "he's so beautiful." She leaned down and kissed the infant's forehead. Then she moved part of the blanket back and held one it's tiny fists. Adam, with his arms around them both, kissed Zoe's damp hair. He didn't know what he felt; relief, love, adoration, hope, and fear were all mingled together. Here was a human being for whom he was now responsible and Adam felt the mantle of fatherhood heavy on his shoulders.

Shaughnessy started cleaning up and Zoe fell asleep in Adam's arms, still holding the baby. Without waking Zoe, Adam disentangled himself and climbed off the bed.

"Thank you, Mrs. Shaughnessy, for all you did. I don't know how to repay you."

"Paugh! I do this 'cause you're neighbors and friends and there's a need. I delivered all my children by myself and I should've learned something from that. But I tell you, Adam, I don't think that child would've been born alive it if hadn't been for you." And Shaughnessy patted Adam on the arm. "Now you go down and have a cup of coffee with your Pa. Once I have the place cleaned up, you can bring him up here to see the child. Have you thought of a name?"

"Yes. Micah. His name is Micah."

"Micah. Micah Cartwright." Mrs. Shaughnessy said the name to herself one more time. "A nice name—a strong name. Now get out and let me finish."

Adam smiled; he felt wrung out and weak but he went downstairs to tell his father that Micah Stoddard Cartwright had been born and was thriving in the arms of his mother.

TBC


	6. Hearts and Flowers

_Hearts and Flowers_

Adam had never brought a girl flowers before—not ever, unless a posey he bought for a girl when he was at Harvard counted. But this was a huge bouquet of flowers that Adam held in his hand as he knocked on the Bartlett's door. He felt foolish. In his thirty years, he had only asked two women to marry him and there were no fathers involved from whom he needed permission. But here he was, following his own father's advice and preparing to ask a girl's father for his permission and his blessings to marry his daughter.

"But, Pa, that's such an outdated custom," Adam had argued. "Zoe said yes and she's the only one who counts.

"Good manners are never outdated," Ben said, "and it'll start out your relationship with your prospective father-in-law on the right foot. If I had a daughter, I'd expect it—I'd require it."

Adam shook his head; his father was so behind the times and didn't realize that customs had changed; women had more of a say now as to their future and Zoe was going to turn 20 soon and could do as she chose.

Adam shook his head. "Maybe Zoe and I should run away—elope to San Francisco and do away with all this silliness. I mean really, Pa, asking permission, having the banns read, engagement parties and the wedding—it's all a waste. Actually, I don't even see the need of a marriage ceremony—if a man and a woman declare their fidelity to one another then it's the same thing."

"It may be silliness, may be foolish to you, Adam, but customs are important if you're going to live in society. And what does Zoe say about your 'opinion'?" Ben watched Adam's face and saw his son flush with obvious embarrassment.

"Um…she…well, she said that she…it doesn't matter what she said, Pa. I'll do as you think I should-I'll ask her father for her hand. Does that satisfy you? I'll jump through all the hoops like a trained circus animal, go through all the expected behaviors. I'll even get down on one knee to propose to her. I get the feeling that these required steps are meant as proof of love and dedication—you'd have to want to marry someone awful bad to do all of that. Oh, maybe I should offer a string of horses to her father and a few milk cows in exchange for his daughter's hand." Adam wanted to end the conversation; he didn't want to share with his father what Zoe had said, how she had looked in the moonlight, her face pale and smooth, her eyes adoring, and told him that she loved him so very much that she would lay with him without any marriage, that she wanted him, needed him more than air and water and food—he alone sustained her. And Adam had held her and kissed her but didn't take her. He loved her too much. He wanted to marry her, for their union to be sanctified by God but he couldn't tell his father the depth of his emotions for Zoe. If he tried, Adam knew his voice would quaver and he might even tear up—she moved him in such a way as he had never before experienced.

So Adam had gathered flowers from Mrs. Gander's huge garden, tried to pay her but she refused. Anything she could do to help young love blossom, she would do. She insisted on putting a ribbon and bow around the bunch of daises and yellow roses and as Adam was about to ride away, Mrs. Gander asked Adam if the flowers were for Zoe Bartlett. Everyone knew, Mrs. Gander said, that Adam was sweet on her and she was such a pretty girl. Adam told her that they were for Zoe and then hurried to ride away. He wondered how much fuel for gossip he had just provided.

Zoe opened the front door and smiled when she saw Adam.

"Is your Pa home?" he asked. He felt foolish and awkward again.

"Yes, I made him wait up. He wanted to go to bed early but I told him that you were coming by to talk to him; he didn't seem happy. Come in, Adam."

"Oh, Zoe, here." Adam handed her the flowers. Zoe took them and smiled and tiptoed to kiss him.

"Thank you, Adam. They're beautiful." She slipped her arm through his and led him into the parlor where her father sat smoking a pipe. "Pa, Adam's here."

"Mr. Bartlett," Adam nodded and then took off his hat and handed it to Zoe. She hung it on the hat rack and then made the excuse of going to put the flowers in water.

"Sit down, Adam. Zoe told me that you were coming by to see me." Adam sat down, sitting gingerly on the edge of the chair and Zoe came in with the vase of flowers and sat them on the mantle.

"Aren't the flowers beautiful, Pa?" Zoe began to sit down but her father asked her to leave the room; he and Adam had business to discuss—privately, he said. Zoe looked at Adam who just raised his brows in resignation and Zoe slowly left the room.

"Zoe's been going around the house happy all day. Then she told me that you were coming over to talk to me so let's cut to the chase; you want to marry Zoe and you've come to settle it with me first."

"Yes," Adam said. "I love Zoe and want to marry her and I'm willing to go through you in order to do so."

"How do you mean that, Adam? Are you going to run through me if I say no, if I say that I don't give my permission for you to marry Zoe?"

"Talk straight, Mr. Bartlett. Do you give your permission or not? I want to marry Zoe and I believe she wants to marry me."

"I know Zoe wants to marry you but I have my doubts about you, Adam."

"What doubts? I told you that I love her. I want to spend the rest of my life with her. I'll be good to her and the best husband I can be."

"How old are you, Adam?"

"I'm thirty. Is that it? You think I'm too old for her?"

"No, that's not it. If you were younger, that would be an issue. You're an established man from an established family. You're set to inherit a vast fortune—1/3 of the Ponderosa. Any father would be thrilled to have you want to marry his daughter."

"Then what is it?" Adam needed to know exactly what Mr. Bartlett's objections were; Adam might be able to explain them away or change something. For the first time, Adam feared that Zoe would be denied to him.

"You've had too many romances, you've had experiences and Zoe is, well, naïve. I don't think that you're a good match. It's hard for a man like you to settle down with one woman and if you and Zoe married and you had a wandering eye, if you ever hurt my child, I'd kill you. Plain and simple. I'd take a double 00 shotgun and blow a hole through your middle."

"As unpleasant as that sounds," Adam said, "I still want to marry Zoe. You're making an assumption about me based on nothing but talk and rumor. I have known a few women and I've patronized certain sporting houses here in town and elsewhere, but I was younger and had no intention of ever marrying. Then I met Zoe and she turned my world on its head."

Mr. Bartlett sat and thought. "Before she died, Mrs. Bartlett wanted to see Zoe married and Zoe almost married the Fields boy. You know the one, the tall blond."

"Yes, Zoe told me about him."

"She did, now? Have you told her about the women in your past?"

"No."

"Well, Zoe backed out right before the banns were to be read—broke his heart. Zoe cried for two days, not because she was hurt but because she hurt him but her mother died thinking Zoe was going to be married, died with a lie between them. Zoe wanted to give her mother her last wish but couldn't. She told me that the idea of life with a man she didn't love was more than she could bear and she knew her mother wouldn't really want that. I told her that I understood. But I don't think she'll be happy with you, Adam."

Adam looked down at his folded hands; he didn't know what else to say. Adam hadn't expected Mr. Bartlett to reject him.

"I think that I'll be very happy, Pa." Zoe's voice floated into the tense silence between the two men. Adam stood up. "Pa, I'm going to marry Adam and I hope that you'll be happy for me. It doesn't matter what you say…I will marry him. I'm determined. Damned determined."

Adam slightly grinned. Zoe did love him for certain. She walked over and stood in front of Adam and he felt like a small child as she protected him.

"Now, instead of threatening my husband-to-be with a shotgun, give him your permission and your blessings. I don't want to go against you, Pa, but I will. I will marry Adam and I will be happy." Her mouth was firm, her jaw set. And then her face softened. "Please, Pa. I love you. And I love him and I don't want to be caught between the two of you."

Mr. Bartlett broke down and Zoe went to him and kneeled beside his chair. "Oh, Papa, please be happy. Adam is the most wonderful man I've ever known—except for you."

Mr. Bartlett looked at his beautiful daughter and suddenly he laughed. "Oh, Zoe. You still know how to get around your old man, don't you? You always could. So you love him, child?"

"Yes, I love him."

Mr. Bartlett sighed deeply. Then he spoke to Adam and Zoe turned her face to him as well. "Adam, I give my daughter's hand to you. You have my permission and my blessings to marry Zoe. But what I said about that double 00 shotgun—it still goes."

And Adam grinned. He put out his arms and Zoe rushed to his embrace. Adam realized then what a momentous event this was—no more romantic ideals—this was his life and he was running toward happiness to embrace it as quickly as he could.

TBC


	7. Midnight

_Midnight_

Adam sat on the back porch. It had been a good idea to build the porch here, Adam was thinking; it became an integral part of their lives. He and Zoe would spread a blanket on the planking and place Micah, when he was an infant, on it and then sit and talk while watching their child. And Micah would coo and babble while he rolled around on the blanket. That memory brought a small smile to his lips but it quickly faded. The view was sublime; Adam thought that even the Greek gods on Mount Olympus couldn't have had a better vantage point than they had from their back porch. But it was dark now and Adam just saw blackness in front of him as far as he could view. The night was overcast and he couldn't even see the stars; they were hidden from him.

He heard the doors open and Zoe's light footfall as she stepped onto the porch.

"Is Micah down for the night?" He didn't look at her.

"Yes. It took two stories and he asked when you were coming to say goodnight. I told him that you'd kiss him later, after he was asleep." Zoe moved to the chair by Adam but he put out his arm.

"Come her, Zoe, Come to me." She moved toward him and he pulled her down on his lap and put his arms around her and they rocked in silence, the only sound being the rockers on the wood floors. He kissed her bowed head and his sadness became greater.

He had noticed a few weeks ago that Zoe had seemed tired; she was pale and losing weight. He had asked her if she was all right and she had laughed and said yes, but Adam noticed that sometimes, he would catch Zoe as if she was looking intently within herself and he would call to her. She would look up and he would joke and ask her where she had gone. She would just smile.

Adam, in the hope of easing Zoe's burden, hired Mrs. Trask to come in and clean and to cook dinner. Zoe had protested about the cooking; she enjoyed that but Adam said that Micah, who was now three, provided more than enough for her to do. But then, one night a few days ago, Zoe had leaned down to pick up one of Micah's toys and became dizzy; she had to sit down and Adam saw the fear in her eyes and that frightened him.

"Zoe, I want you to see Paul Martin."

"I don't need to see him; I'm fine."

"No, you're not. Please, Zoe. Please. I'll take you."

"I'm just tired. I haven't had much of an appetite lately, and that's why I've lost weight-that's all. I probably need an elixir or something, that's all."

Adam didn't push it but he watched her closely.

"Pa's going to take Micah for the day," Adam told Zoe at breakfast one morning. "You and I are going to town."

"Why?"

"We haven't been off alone for a long time. I thought you'd enjoy spending the day with your husband. We can have lunch in town and then go shopping for a new hat for you. You better grab the chance, woman. You know how much I hate to go hat shopping." Adam smiled but his stomach was churning.

Micah ran to his "Gampa" and "Hossing," the boy's name for Hop Sing, who welcomed him with open arms, Ben sweeping up his beloved grandson. The two men hugged the boy, first Ben, kissing the child's soft black hair and then Hop Sing, taking the child and telling him that there were cookies waiting just for him. Ben told Adam and Zoe to have a nice day in town but Zoe's eyes met Ben's and then dropped. Ben rushed to the carriage and gave Zoe a kiss on her pale cheek and Adam watched them quizzically. He wasn't sure what it was, but something had passed between his father and his wife.

When they reached the outskirts of Virginia City, Adam pulled the buggy up to Dr. Martin's surgery.

"I thought that this was why you wanted to come to town," Zoe said quietly, "but you don't need to. Your father drove me into town twice over three weeks ago." Zoe looked at Adam and she saw his face take on a look of pain.

"Three weeks ago and you never told me? He never told me?"

"Don't blame him; I said that I would tell you—when the time was right. I suppose this is the right time. I just wanted you to be happy as long as possible." Zoe wet her lips and took a deep breath. "According to Dr. Martin, I'm dying. He said I have only two, maybe three more months. And before you say anything, nothing can be done. That's another reason why I didn't tell you. You would insist on taking me to every specialist in the country and even Europe but that isn't how I want to spend my days. I just want to be with Micah and you and my father and your family."

Adam didn't know how to respond. He was furious. He wanted to rage at her, to grab her by the upper arms and shake her until her teeth rattled. He was filled with fury and wanted to scream at her and do violence unto her. And he wanted to hold her and caress her and to take her home to bed and find pleasure in her body, to revel in physical sensations.

He was bereft. Never in his life had he been without hope and the lack of it made him want to howl with despair.

But he did none of it. "Oh, Zoe, what am I going to do? What am I going to do? I just…" Zoe reached out for him; she wanted to comfort him, but he shrugged off her hand and leapt down from the buggy. "I'm going to see Paul. I need to talk to him—to know everything. Do you want to come?" He was holding himself together as best he could. She shook her head no and so Adam went into the doctor's office himself and found Paul Martin and when Paul saw Adam's face, he knew Zoe had told him.

Adam drove them home. Zoe wanted to talk to Adam but he said that he never wanted to speak of it—never. And when they reached their house, Adam took Zoe by the hand and led her upstairs to their room. He wanted to be close to her, to give her pleasure and for him to feel something; there was a chilling numbness inside him.

And after his physical release, came the emotional one and Adam broke down and wept.

"Oh, Zoe, my heart is broken!" he cried. And Zoe pulled him to her and Adam lay with his head on her breasts, his arms around her, and sobbed like a child. Zoe soothed him, holding back her own tears, stroking his hair and shushing him and telling him that she understood. But Adam had never felt such a surge of emotion before, such an overwhelming grief.

But that was the last time he wept in her presence. Adam was determined to make her as happy as he could. So he treated everyday as if it was one in a long line of days. He would bring Zoe little gifts whenever he went into town and he picked wildflowers for her and brought her a bluebird feather he found and he tucked it behind her ear. And he smiled and behaved as he knew he should and yet, he felt dead inside.

His father had told him that it was the mind's defense against pain; a person had to kill the intolerable feelings or just roll over and die. The unbearable had to become bearable and the psyche had its own ways for a man to survive.

So Adam survived the pain and whenever he could, he would hold Zoe as close as possible and he would lie awake, sometimes not sleeping all night, wanting to extend his time with her. Life was too precious to sleep it away.

"It's time, Adam." Ben had opened the porch door. Adam sat in his black suit, looking out at the first snow of the season. Adam had taken Micah to the Ponderosa three days ago when Zoe died and left him there with his brothers and his father and Hop Sing. And since then, Adam had been wandering through the empty house, trying to feel Zoe's presence, burying his face in her clothing, lying where she had lain. And for the past few evenings, Adam had sat on the cold porch and talked to her; he hoped that she could hear him. As jaded as he had become over the years about God and an afterlife, he hoped that Zoe's spirit hovered around him, keeping him company. Sometimes he swore he felt her breath on his neck and her touch on his cheek.

Adam stared ahead, rocking slowly. "I don't think I can go, Pa. I keep hoping this cold will numb my mind but I can't stop thinking. It'll be saying goodbye to her and I can't. You said that memories would help, but they don't. They make it worse. They just make her loss more difficult to bear."

Ben sat down on the chair beside Adam. "Listen to me, Adam. Despite what you may think, I do know what you're feeling. It's midnight in your soul, isn't it? The blackest of black—no light, no hope. But the good thing about midnight is that after it passes—and it does-you're headed toward morning and the rising of the sun. I'm not trying to diminish what you're feeling but time really does heal—at least the surface of things, the open wounds. Nothing will ever take the pain away, nothing. But it does become easier to bear."

Adam slowly turned his head to look at his father. "I can't, Pa. I just can't."

Ben stood up. "Fine, Adam. We're going to the funeral and one day, you can tell Micah why you never went to his mother's funeral."

Adam sat for a moment. He had forgotten about Micah, so absorbed in his own grief as he was. He had forgotten that although he may be without a wife, his son was without a mother. He slowly stood up.

"Pa. Wait for me." Ben paused and Adam closed the doors of the porch and stood next to his father. "I hope that you're right, Pa." And Ben put his arm around Adam's shoulders and the two walked into the pristine snow, the sun making it sparkle like a thousand diamonds spread across the countryside.

~ Finis ~


End file.
